


Lover's Eyes

by pails



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1940's au, Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, But its only mentioned, Fluff, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:41:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25053310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pails/pseuds/pails
Summary: Set in the 1940's, Louis is being drafted into the Second World War. A mere three nights before he ships off, he and Harry spend a night together.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 22





	Lover's Eyes

It’s cold, not nearly cold enough for a usual September evening. But cold nonetheless. The wind moves slow, enough to keep with the chill in the air, but fast enough to send flames licking upwards, sparks flying. The fire, setup towards the back of the beach, is lacking in company, seeing as almost everyone has gone home for the night. It’s nearing close to midnight anyway.

Louis takes his time making his way towards a log surrounding the fire. As he sits, he closes his eyes and takes in the aroma of saltwater and wood, something he’s not going to get to experience. It’s too somber of a night, it’s almost suffocating. Louis doesn’t let it bother him though, welcomes it with a heavy heart. 

He doesn’t flinch when a figure comes into his line of sight, Harry wasn’t always the quietest. Nevertheless, he doesn’t say anything for several minutes. It’s Louis who speaks up first, and neither boy’s eyes move from where they’re watching the fire dance. 

“I don’t want to go home.” He lets out a shaky sigh, though Harry doesn’t comment on it. 

“I know. But you’ll have to see your mum eventually.” Harry tilts his head and finally spares Louis an honest look. He looks tired, more than anything. The anxiety is clearly there, but he hides it well. 

They both ignore what Harry is really saying. That Louis will have to eventually _tell_ his mother. Tell her that he’s being drafted, that he only has days to spare before he’s whisked off into The Second World War, that he doesn’t know if he’ll return. It’ll break her heart, surely, and for a fleeting moment Louis thinks of a way to not go, to stay and help with his sisters, to stay home. Home, with his family, his friends, with _Harry_. His Harry, the boy who has lived next to him all his life, the boy he played in the sandbox with at primary school, the only one who has been with him all these years. The only one who would stand up for him when the neighborhood bullies made their rounds. The only one who helped take care of his mom every time she fell pregnant. The only one he has ever been in love with.

Surely, he’s known. He knows Harry is the one person he’s meant to be with, the one he is meant to share his life with. He also knows why it can never come to fruition, men and boys alike are getting murdered, beaten, outed to their communities for something they cannot control. Louis doesn’t want that for Harry, doesn’t want the shame it will bring to Harry’s family, let alone his own.

Louis shakes his head clear of those thoughts, he can’t think of that now. It’s all too much. Still, he peeks a glance over at Harry, who is now looking off into the ocean. He sits stiff, thumbs twiddling, he looks almost forlorn. Louis doesn’t have to ask why, they both know Harry hasn’t taken the news well. Instead, Louis stands up, which prompts Harry to look up at him questioningly.

“We’re going for a swim.” It’s stated as fact, no room for opposition, and then Louis is making off for the shore.

Harry isn’t far behind him, tripping over himself and various pieces of driftwood to catch up. Finally, they both stand under moonlight, the waves not quite reaching their feet as they stare out into the night. Louis is first to undress, taking off his suspenders and unbuttoning his shirt as he smiles at Harry. He leaves his underwear on, the rest of his clothing laid far enough away so the water won’t crumple them. Harry is staring at Louis when he first dips his toes in, smiles at the small gasp that leaves his lips, and starts undressing himself.

It’s almost a blur, that night. The waves crashing against each other, the boys dunking each other underwater and splashing each other as they laugh carefree and wild. And soon, an hour, two hours have passed, and they’re stumbling up the beach with their clothes in hand to an even more secluded section off to the right. It is underneath a cliff, a drop off that they used to jump from when they were boys, screaming wild into the wind. Now, though, they situate themselves onto a rock, smooth and cool as they begin to dry off.

Laughter has subsided, and the boys are calm. They breathe in the air with a melancholic smile, Louis’ eyes drifting close as though to stay grounded in this moment. He feels the wind over his damp skin, brushing off droplets of water that still cling to him. He tries to memorize how this feels, how he feels. That, even though the world may very well be ending, he is here, in this moment, with his boy. _His boy_ , Louis thinks, and smiles. His boy, who is kind and gentle and lovely. And not really his. Because Louis will leave and Harry will move on, settle down with a nice girl who will give him what Louis can’t.

Turning to Harry, he can’t quite make out his features in this darkness, but judging by the sniffles he produces, Louis can only imagine that his boy is crying. And though his heart aches and breaks, and he wants nothing more than to tell him _it’ll be fine, i’ll be fine_ , he knows those are empty promises. Instead he sneaks his hand across the rock they sit on, to where Harry’s are and grazes his pinky over the back of Harry’s hand. Harry, in turn, locks it in his own pinky. 

_I love you_ , Louis wants to say. _I love you and I would give up everything for you but I can’t and it’s not fair but in this moment, right now, I love you._ Louis squeezes his pinky instead, and hopes Harry gets the message. And he must, because Harry squeezes back. And they sit, just like that, staring out at the world on fire.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while putting off my Game of Thrones AU (which I promise I'm working on). You can find me on tumblr at pails.tumblr.com


End file.
